Ending
by Basilikos
Summary: There is an ending for all of us. Yes, even for those who weren't really alive to begin with. A story about the morphs created by Nergal: Ephidel, Sonia, Denning, Limstella, and Kishuna.
1. Ephidel

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All of it belongs to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

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><p>Men's hearts are no mystery to me. The purpose of my creation was manipulation. I saw the fears, the inner workings of Marquess Laus's mind. I knew how to use them against him, and in his mind I seeded the fear of Ostia that grew into a sapling.<p>

Ostia was a threat to Laus, I claimed. Such a warlike and barbaric state could not be trusted with so much power. If Ostia was not stopped now, who knows what it would do in the future?

I continued this, sowing venom and distrust in his heart until he would not sleep easy until Ostia had been defeated and subjected under his rule.

Can you not see yourself in a crown, I asked, as supreme leader of all of Lycia? To do that, subjecting the most powerful territory would be the best place to start.

I whispered to him what he needed to hear.

Emotions are so _ridiculous_. They leave you weak, vulnerable, unable to see clearly. His emotions held him back from seeking power, made him feel concerned for his son. Erik was his only son. That was what kept him from acting. He hesitated, but I knew exactly what to say. Sons are disposable, I said. You're still young, and you can easily beget another son. Erik is unfit. He's lost to Hector and Eliwood and he's unsuitable to be your heir apparent.

I succeeded.

He abandoned his son.

I stayed with him all the while, continuing to whisper encouragement, that we were so close, _so close_, to reaching his goals, that we were merely inches from victory.

He believed me.

After all, he had no reason to suspect that my goals were not his own.

The other man was harder. After all, most with quality quintessence usually are. I saw it immediately – this was a man of _honor_, one who would not abandon friends or his "morals" very easily. So, I spread rumors of dissent and rebellion against the Lycian League. He had no choice but to go and investigate, and when he did, my lord and I were waiting for him.

Our phantom ship slaughtered all but one of his Pheraean knights, and we took him prisoner.

Still, he resisted.

Kept under tight security at Valor Island, he knew that he himself would be unable to escape, and so committed his efforts to aiding the dragon children's escape. And of course they would be bothersome as well, running straight into the protecting arms of his son.

Who could have known that his son would turn out to be such a pesky annoyance? Driving Marquess Laus out of his own castle, protecting the two dragon-children, rescuing Marquess Caelin, following me all the way to Valor Island, who would have thought he was capable of such stubborn perseverance? And to top it all off, the very same day Eliwood arrived on the Dread Isle, I discovered that one of my best assassins within the Black Fang was a spy under House Ostia! I had been extremely irked, so I indulged in a little bit of psychological warfare, ordering Jaffar to kill Leila and leave her corpse for Eliwood and Hector to find.

After all, humans can fear and feel, and what could possibly be more disturbing than the dead body of a comrade?

Then, when they somehow managed to defeat Uhai and find the temple, I captured the girl and brought her before my lord. I ordered Marquess Laus to stay behind to defend the temple – there was no longer any use for him, and if he died, so much the better. There would be less blood on my hands. Not that I minded spilling blood, of course.

Eliwood somehow managed to fight his way through Darin as I thought he would – Darin was nothing compared to Uhai. Eliwood and Hector attempted to take the girl as well as Lord Elbert and flee, but Jaffar prevented them from leaving.

Together, we performed the ritual to use Elbert's quintessence and Ninian's power to open the dragon's gate. Eliwood's face crumpled in despair as he helplessly watched his father slowly die before him. Emotions, I thought. Unnecessary, cumbersome, burdens. We were so close – the portal had been open, and a dragon had followed the call through the Gate. But then, her brother had shown up, roused her from the trance with a cry, and ruined everything.

See, if emotions didn't exist, our plan would have succeeded.

My lord and I stood directly in front of the fiery gate, and once the girl stopped the ritual, the gate crumbled on the dragon and created a fiery explosion.

It engulfed everything. Flames filled my vision, and I turned to my lord, knowing that he had the power to teleport us both to safety.

He vanished before my eyes.

I screamed in pain, shock, and fury. I cried for him to help me, to come back and save me, but I watched him reappear safely beside Elbert's side. He watched stoically as I trembled before the blaze. Had I become useless, outdated? Was he discarding me for a better version, the same way he pushed Sonia aside for Limstella? It would not have taken him much to save me. Was I really such a waste of quintessence?

For the first time in my life, I think I felt emotions. Fear and loneliness.

I don't think I will ever understand why humans treasure emotion.

The gate looms before me.

The inferno consumes me.

I turn to dust.

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><p>AN: Decided to rewrite this one to make it fit the actual plotline better :P


	2. Sonia

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All of it belongs to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

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><p>I remember the day I spared that little brat's life. I'd entered the manse the night before, dressed in rags and carrying an infant-like doll. I shudder in disgust to think how pitifully naïve the two most powerful mages were. How did they possibly survive so long? Hindered by such a repellant amount of trust, they should have been assassinated long ago. Once inside, it had been easy to control them. After all, the Trinity of Magic allows Dark Magic to easily defeat Anima, and Nergal was with me. And they were reluctant to strike back, for I seized their son and used him as a shield. As I said, so <em>pitifully<em> weak. Surely they must have known I would kill them all anyways. Had they the common sense to strike me and the boy, they would have had a chance at a happy life with their remaining daughter. Instead, they were helpless.

I captured her and the boy, using them as hostages to force the parents to talk. Oh, was I clever. They spilled their hearts out – about magic, about the dragon's gate, about powerful spells – all for their children.

"Anything," they begged. "Anything. We'll tell you anything, just spare the children."

And so I made them tell me everything. I had no intention of letting them live – they probably had already realized that we were planning to open the Dragon's Gate, and once we left…they would summon a formidable army of mages to stop us. How could they be so naïve, to actually believe that I would spare anyone?

No, plans like these were best kept secret, and the only way to ensure secrecy is death.

So once they were done, I killed them all. All but her – Nergal's hand stopped me from casting the final spell.

"Stop," he had commanded me. "She is from a long lineage of powerful mages and has the potential to become one. Besides, she is far too young to remember any of this bloodshed. Take her in and bring her up, and one day, she could be useful to me."

I had obliged. What else could I do? It was Lord Nergal, after all. But I admit I was rather disappointed at being saddled with such a burden. I thought that such a task should have been designated to one of those mindless morphs. She pestered me day and night – it was obvious she adored me. After all, I was perfect. Nergal himself said so. But I had neither the time nor the patience to deal with snot-nosed little children, and I usually ignored her. She adored me so much that I think if I'd given her a suicide mission, she would have done it. Too bad Nergal didn't permit it. I was surprised at how disgustingly cheerful the girl could be, even though I treated her like the refuse she was. She befriended the Reed brothers, and even had the nerve to try to befriend Jaffar. But of course it failed. Jaffar is incapable of feeling emotion.

Then came the day Nergal asked me to marry Brendan Reed. It was stupid and silly, but I suppose _someone_ had to do it. Don't be ridiculous, of course I didn't love the man. But I suppose those empty puppets that Nergal creates are incapable of even feigning emotion – only a perfect human like myself could properly do the job.

It was simple. After all, I am a beautiful woman. Just a little bit of flirting, a flash of skin, and a few charming smiles was all it took for him to become besotted with me. Nino had been thrilled. She'd gained new brothers, and finally, _finally_, had her doting, loving, parent within Brendan. It still didn't stop her from doggedly following me and trying to gain my approval though.

It's too bad, really. I only value power, and I see it within Nergal. But with Nino…even if she became a world-class mage, even if one day, however unlikely, she was able to best me in magical power, she would never gain my approval. Sentiment, trust, and naiveté like hers, all precious genetic souvenirs passed to her from her foolhardy parents, would prevent her from _ever_ attaining true power.

Just like Nino, Ursula, another member of the Black Fang, _idolized_ me. But she was weak and unworthy, and I paid her no attention.

Then came time for the prince to die.

Jaffar had to be the one to do it. Nobody would be more suitable for the job, Angel of Death that he was. And a scapegoat was needed…what better way to rid myself of that pesky little brat? After all, Nergal was so close to victory, and what need for powerful mages is there when you have _dragons_ on your side?

So I sent her off with the task of assassinating Prince Zephiel. I told her he was evil, one who deserved to die. I even promised to hold her hand and brush her hair if she succeeded! Well, only because I knew that she wouldn't be coming back. I played the part of the concerned parent perfectly, even telling her to be careful. After she left, I gave Jaffar the rest of the orders. He was to kill Nino after he killed the prince.

I had no delusions about Nino's abilities. Perhaps she did have the power to kill the prince. But, bleeding heart that she was, she would be unable to assassinate him while he slept. So, the job would be entirely up to Jaffar.

But I had begun to suspect that Jaffar was starting to become dangerous. Why, sometimes I could even see faint hints of emotion on his face when he was around Nino. So, just to be safe, I sent Ursula and her henchman Maxime to follow him and see if he carried out his orders to the letter. If not, they could then carry out the Law of the Fang. And if they all ended up killing each other, so much the better.

I returned to the water temple, where I gleefully awaited the return of Brendan Reed. I had now completely taken over the Black Fang, and there was no more use for him. I could dispose him at my leisure now.

Limstella appeared before me and called my name. I shudder to think about it. Such filthy lips should not be given the honor of speaking my name. Morphs have always given me a bad feeling. Those empty, soulless eyes…Anyhow, she told me that Eliwood was still alive, and that I had not yet fulfilled Lord Nergal's orders. I'd been extremely annoyed. The Four Fangs were considered the best of the Fang, yet they still managed to bungle things up? I resolved to kill Eliwood and his friends myself.

Then, Brendan arrived, demanding to speak to me. Spotting Limstella, he began to become suspicious. I had no more use for him anyways, and Nergal had said that it would be okay to kill him. I could finally tell him how masterfully I had manipulated him, how I had been the cause of the deaths of his sons. I giggled at the despair on his face as he realized that the Black Fang now consisted almost entirely of Nergal's henchmen and morphs. His sons had suspected me from the beginning, and he had been stupid enough to ignore their doubts.

Then, I asked him to die for me, his beloved wife. He called me an inhuman monster and rushed at me. I killed him, but not without sustaining a wound. Why did he _have_ to live up to his reputation until the end? His dying words asked for forgiveness from his two dead sons. How disgustingly sentimental.

The puppet rejoined me, and admired his "magnificent essence." The soulless creature said that she would deliver it immediately to Nergal. I was wary that she might try to steal the credit for my achievements, and ordered her to inform Nergal that I was the one who brought an end to the famed leader of the Black Fang.

She saw that I had been injured, and tried to take away my position. I didn't need her damn pity. I could do my job fine. _I_ would be the one to kill Eliwood and Hector, _I_ would be the one who claimed the glory of defeating Nergal's worst enemies, not _her_.

She had no choice but to oblige and leave. I settled back on the chair, waiting for their arrival.

The brat and the assassin came first. Jan found them first, managed to give them a garbled warning before I appeared before them and he ran off hysterically, completely terrified. Idiot. I would smoke him out later, I vowed. But first, I had to deal with Eliwood, Hector, and my own dearly beloved _daughter_.

I took pleasure in revealing the bloody backstory to our wonderful parent-daughter relationship. I told her that if I'd known how utterly _useless_ and _annoying_ she would have become, I would have killed her along with her parents. Actually, I _had_ wanted to kill her along with her parents. Only Nergal's command had stopped me.

She was in shock. Truly, stupid beyond reason. How could she possibly have believed that a perfect being like me could ever beget a child so useless and brainless?

Then the assassin had stepped in, calling me an inhuman monster with a soul black and devoid of warmth. Funny, isn't it? A few months ago, he was just the same. Perfect. Unhindered by naiveté and trust. Although to be honest, he was rather lacking in the entire emotional department. Now, he was rash and impulsive, wont to act on emotion.

Why, the whelp even threatened to kill me! How rich. So, I told him that I would gladly enact the Law of the Fang. All traitors must be killed.

Then the rest of the pests arrived, and they had a wonderful, touching little reunion. Poor little Nino was almost moved to tears. It really was too bad they would all die now.

I looked forward to their deaths. I would make them suffer before they died in fear and agony.

Jaffar came to me first. I raged at him. Did he not realize that he owed his life to Nergal? How could he repay him with such a despicable betrayal? Oh, I would enjoy killing him.

Except I didn't kill him.

He killed me.

I didn't understand. Lord Nergal told me I was perfect. How could I have been defeated by such a weakling? True, he may have been the Angel of Death, but I was _me_.

In my last moments, the puppet I hated most came before me. I ordered her to leave me be, to let me die in peace. I weakly cried to Lord Nergal for help, but none came. Instead, she told me that I had no essence to harvest. That I was a puppet, just like her, and that I had outlived my use.

I refused to believe her. I was not a puppet. How else could I feel so many emotions, such burning hatred, such complete despair?

I desperately forced out my last few words. "…I am…hu…ma…"

I cannot ignore the voice in my head that tells me I am wrong.

It tells me that I fabricated my humanity to fill the emptiness inside.

It tells me that I am no better than the puppets I loathe.

It tells me that I hated Nino because I envied her emotions.

It tells me that I despised Limstella the most out of all of them because she was my mirror image.

It tells me that she was exactly like me, but more perfect and without my flaws.

And in my very essence, I know the voice is right.

I turn to dust.

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><p>AN: Sonia was an interesting one to write :D


	3. Denning

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All of it belongs to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

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><p>This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."<p>

Created with nothing but one purpose in mind.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

Created from the quintessence of a powerful archer.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

He had been in a hurry when he made me.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

Didn't even bother to give me the ability to taste, hear, or smell.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

I wouldn't survive long enough to need those.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

He would have created me without the ability to feel pain as well.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

But he didn't know how to.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

I'm surprised he even bothered to give me a name.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

Ordered to dispose of everyone who did not serve Lord Nergal.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

Spoke the one phrase I knew to all whose paths I crossed.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

I care for nothing.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

I care not who I kill.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

I care not what I'm fighting for.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

I do not possess emotion.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

I have no will to live or die.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

An axman approaches me. Just another enemy, among many.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

I give him my message.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

He attacks me first. It is a hard blow, and I stagger back a bit.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

It is too close range for me to shoot back, so I take a few steps away.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

My fingers draw back the string. I release an arrow.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

It misses the target.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

I draw back the string again, feeling the tension thrum within the bow.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

This time I hit him. He grunts, and his face distorts quite curiously, I believe with some sort of emotion.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

He's still moving though. I aimed for his heart, but I wasn't accurate enough.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

There's a few seconds gap as I draw another arrow from my quiver.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

He seizes the opportunity to charge straightforward at me, striking another blow across my torso.

This is a message from Lord Nergal. "I await you on the Dread Isle."

I try to deliver my message one final time.

This is…a message…from…Lo…rd…Nerga…

I turn to dust.

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><p>AN: I realize that the repeating of the message might get a little tiresome, but I wanted to emphasize the point that Denning was created with a one-track mind.


	4. Limstella

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All of it belongs to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

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><p>I am perfection. The strongest among my master's morphs.<p>

So, when my master was injured, he asked me to collect quintessence. It was a deep wound, he said, and that he would need much of it. I was to kill all those who bore signs of power.

I began with the Black Fang. They were close, they were on hand, and they were useful. Once a member of the Black Fang lost its use – either through death, through injury, or through defection, I would hunt them down. Of course, I only bothered to do this if I deemed the member's quintessence worthy of my master.

The White Wolf was the one who died first, who, bested by Eliwood and Hector, had begun to doubt the position of my master within the Fang. He planned to meet with his brother, and together, I had no qualms that they would realize Sonia had been manipulating their father. She was, after all, rather clumsy in her manipulation. She could at least try to _pretend _to have emotions for Brendan Reed…but I suppose I expect too much of a failed model.

So, not only had the Wolf failed in stopping Eliwood and Hector, he was also a threat to my lord's position within the Fang. It was clear I had to kill him, and I would do so gladly for my master.

I appeared behind him, and I realized I was correct. He had begun to suspect Sonia, and was planning to unmask her. I could not allow him undermine her position in the Fang, I recognized. As incompetent as she may be, she still held a use for my master. So, I killed him.

In his last moments, he futilely called out for his brother, asking him to reveal Sonia's treachery to their father. I wonder what it would be like to have a sibling – though I suppose Ephidel and the others could be construed as something similar to me, I have never felt very close to them. To be honest, I don't feel particularly close to anything or anyone, other than my master, and that is only due to the fact that he created me to have such strong feelings of subservience. In my last moments, would I call out someone else's name, or would I continue to think only of myself? But these are questions best left for later.

His essence was strong and beautiful. I harvested it, and it shone and pulsated within my hands, glowing with life and energy. My master would be pleased.

Ursula, the Blue Crow, was next. Killed by Hector, she lay dying within the castle. She had quite excellent essence, as expected by one of the Four Fangs. However, the Angel of Death had defected and gone with Nino to join Hector, and I realized it would be a while before I would be able to harvest his quintessence. I looked forward to it.

Then was Linus, the Mad Dog. He, like his brother before him, called out his brother's name as his dying words. Such devoted siblings…

Then, finally, was Brendan Reed, the leader of the Fang. I reported to Limstella that our master's word had not yet been met, and that Eliwood and Hector still breathed, due to the incompetence of her daughter, the Angel of Death, and the Blue Crow. She ordered me be quiet, calling me an abomination, and swore to defeat Eliwood and his friends herself.

It was then Brendan Reed had shown himself, demanding to speak with Sonia. He spotted me, and started to become wary. Instead of seeking to assuage his suspicion, Sonia determined that the best course of action would be to kill him. She gloated for a while, lording her superiority over him and revealing her true thoughts of him. When she was finally done, she killed him, but not before sustaining an injury. Like his sons, in his dying moments, Brendan only had thoughts for his family.

His essence was brilliant. Magnificent, really. I expected no less from the father of the White Wolf and the Mad Dog. I prepared to deliver it to my master at once.

Sonia, still gloating over her victory, commanded I tell my Lord that she was the one who killed him. She looked in pain, though, and I offered to take over her duties. If in her state of injury, she was defeated, she could cause problems for my master's plans.

Instead, in her selfish pride, she refused. She exclaimed that she had been chosen by my Lord, and that she was a perfect being. An inhuman creature like me was unworthy of the glory that was rightfully hers. Such delusions. We are a means to an end. Our master cares not what we accomplish or what becomes of us.

But I acquiesced and allowed her to continue serving her duty. I absorbed Brendan Reed's quintessence to take to my master.

I don't know what possessed me to return to Sonia's side when her existence was ending. She had no essence to harvest, no use to my master anymore. As a perfect being, I should have no desire to see her suffer, yet I still stood by her side as she weakly called aloud for our master. I felt myself impelled to reveal her true nature, and I succumbed to that desire.

She rejected it, shouting denials at me after I had told her of her humanity and turned to leave. I wonder if she ever realized the truth, or if she died while continuously insisting on her humanity, whispering sweet lies to herself over and over again.

The next time I met my master, he possessed the children's dragon stone. Infusing it with quintessence, he gave it the power to summon dragons. He used the dragon girl's quintessence. It was beautiful; shining with the promise of a life not yet lived to its fullest.

I wondered if he realized that Ninian had been his daughter, or if the darkness had completely claimed whatever memory of the life he had led before. But it was none of my business, so I asked my lord if we should begin calling dragons immediately.

Later, he replied. When his injuries from Athos were healed. After all, dealing with dragons was dangerous, and it would be wise to have spare essence on hand.

I informed him that all the quintessence from the Black Fang had been consumed, and that I required a new source for the next harvest.

The new materials would be heading here shortly, he replied. Understanding dawned on me. Eliwood and friends…

Yes, he responded. He would crush them, steal their quintessence, and use it to call forth his dragons.  
>He took on a glassy-eyed look, as though he was visiting far-distant lands within his mind. "They're coming…"<p>

He turned to me. "Go," he ordered. "Limstella. Bring their essences to me."

I hesitated. For the first time, I doubted my abilities. They carried the legendary Divine Weapons from the heroes of the Scouring, and I, _I_ was just a mere imitation of humanity.

But my master reassured me, telling that my magic was stronger in the entire continent. I had attained perfect strength and perfect beauty, and I was his masterpiece.

But power comes at a price. By tomorrow, my flesh would break down from the power of such sorcery. My lord asked me if this was what I desired – the chance to die for him.

His wishes were my commands, and I obeyed.

I would take their lives and their essences. All for the sake of my master.

The girl, the one that Sonia had always despised, appeared before me. She muttered a few words, then sent a blazing halo of fire at me. My lord had been wrong. I did not possess the most powerful magic on the continent; she did.

I am not human. This body and this heart are constructs.

So is this sorrow I feel.

And yet...though I realize that they are merely imitations within my fabricated heart...I cannot help but regret what could have been.

I turn to dust.

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><p>AN: Edited for too much use of the word "quintessence".


	5. Kishuna

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All of it belongs to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

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><p>I was meant to be so much more.<p>

I was meant to be a companion to my creator, an intelligent being capable of thought, emotion, and reason. I was meant to possess powerful magic beyond any other morphs' capabilities.

But something went wrong. And instead of being loved, from the moment I was created, I was hated. Despised, even, by my own creator.

For during my creation, he had slipped. Regained control of himself, fought back the dark that had been so all-consuming. And in his temporary consciousness, he skipped five words of the incantation. Then, he had slipped away, lost once more within the darkness.

Those missing five words were the world.

They were what endowed me with muteness, deafness, and blindness. They were what drained the magical power he was going to gift me and converted it into a magic seal. And in his flash of consciousness, a few of his memories were transferred to me.

And I _felt_.

Felt emotions.

Felt his anger at the men who had taken her away. Felt his sorrow at his inability to save her. Saw his determination to master the dark to get her back. And saw his descent into madness, losing his identity, losing his mind, and eventually, losing sight of his goal.

And then I felt more.

I felt his anger at himself for allowing this to happen. I felt his sorrow as he realized that it was too late for him to retreat, to pull away from the darkness. I saw his horror of what he had become, of how he had abandoned his own children. I _felt_ his anger, his sorrow, his horror.

When he had finished, he hadn't realized that anything had gone wrong. The hood of my cloak obscured my malformed face, and thus prevented him from immediately learning of his failure. He still had a shred of humanity left within him, had not completely been lost to the dark, though it would only be a matter of time. He named me Kishuna. I was the only morph he had named, out of the many he had created. For I had emotions, and referring to me as simply a number would not do my nature justice. He paused, marveling at the feat he had accomplished – he had created a living, breathing, being from his own hands. A creature capable of thought, of reason, of emotion, and of power beyond belief. He cherished me and treated me humanely until that terrible moment when he pushed back my hood to gaze upon his work.

His face contorted with anger and disbelief. I remember fearing for my life, and even now, I marvel that he didn't strike me down immediately.

But everything changed. I went from being everything to being trash.

He looked upon me with disdain and resentment now. I had no magic or strength, and my potential as a magic seal could only serve to endanger his powers.

I disgusted him. My deformed appearance only served to remind him of his failure, and every time he saw me, the _true_ him remembered his humanity, and tried to fight back, simultaneously ashamed and repulsed by what he had become.

He could not bear to look upon my face any longer.

So he exiled me.

It's a funny feeling, being despised by one's own creator. For what purpose was I brought into the world, if only to be loathed and scorned by the very person who constructed me?

He called me a monster, nothing but a powerless and frail false puppet of humanity. I felt anger and sorrow, for weren't his newest creations the true imitations of humanity? Incapable of feeling emotions, selfish and cruel, they were the real insults to humanity.

Still he persisted. I was a worthless fool, his blunder, his failed morph. I was of no use to him, in fact, I was a burden.

He sent me away, telling me to rot into dust.

"Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return," he had quoted. "As you are a mere puppet, you will be incapable of a true death. Your body will crumble to nothing, and nobody shall remember you. No mark of you shall remain on this earth."

I resented his words. I was no puppet. I had what all the others lacked, had the only thing that made me different. And now, he was sending me off to die. But while he spoke, I realized that something within him remained, some shred of humanity that wanted to see me survive. In it, I saw the druid he had been before he had been overwhelmed by the dark, the one who marveled at the beauty of the world and the nature of the beings he created. He did not want me to die, but the dark did. So he sent me away with a retinue of morphs without names, ones that would protect and serve me well. But they had no emotion, no capabilities of reason, so in reality, I was completely alone.

And so I dwelled, surrounded by beings, yet still in solitude.

The first time I met them I was filled with anger. Anger at Lord Nergal for having exiled me, anger at the meaninglessness of my existence. My anger spread throughout my seal, and created a distorted atmosphere of my emotion. Tense and stressful, it put all the morphs near me on an edge.

They defeated Aion, and I was forced to flee. Weaponless, powerless, and weak as I was, I would have died immediately.

The second time I met them I was also filled with anger.

They had everything I wanted. Companionship, love, and trust. But my very nature would prevent me from ever gaining those, and I was resigned to my bitter fate. I wanted to make them suffer.

Instead, I was gravely wounded, and I fled once more.

The final time I met them, I was filled with sorrow.

I understood that they were going to kill my creator.

I did not know what to feel. Although my creator hated me, I could not find it within me to wish death upon him. If I stood in their way, they would destroy me, for all the morphs they met were enemies, and they would assume no different in my case.

The more I thought, the more resigned I became to my death.

What is the meaning of life in a world of monotony and loneliness? What is the point of living when one's very own creator wishes destruction upon his creation? For I am only a puppet, and my life comes from the stolen quintessence of another.

My being has no value.

So when they came for me, I had already accepted it. I would be destroyed, and Nergal would join me shortly after. Would there be an afterlife for me? Or would I merely cease to exist?

The javelin came at me, and I had no weapons to defend myself with. On the girl's face, I saw fear and sadness. Fear of my identity as a morph, and sadness for the friends she had lost to other morphs.

Would Nergal, had he not been lost to the darkness, have felt sadness at my passing?

As the world faded around me, I did something that I never should have been able to do.

In my loneliness, fear, and sadness, I cried out. The voice that I had never known escaped my throat, and I called for my creator, though deep in my fabricated heart I knew there would be no reply.

I turn to dust.

_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust._

* * *

><p>AN: Edited and reposted :) some of the little pieces didn't make sense in the context of the whole, so I fixed it up so that I didn't keep contradicting myself.


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